


Burden Or Blessing?

by ladyoneill



Series: Dark Side Of The Moon [24]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Forced Bonding, Forced Pregnancy, M/M, Mpreg, Non-Consensual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-27
Updated: 2013-07-27
Packaged: 2017-12-21 11:40:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/899888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyoneill/pseuds/ladyoneill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He hates it until it moves and becomes real and he's left with only hate for its father.  No consent equals rape, even when when the lack of consent had nothing to do with sex, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burden Or Blessing?

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this was supposed to be a second ficlet written for the Burdens prompt at fullmoon_ficlet but...it just got weird. I dunno what my muse is up to these days. I've tagged it rape, and maybe it is; that's up to the reader. Stiles enjoys the sex; he doesn't enjoy the rest of his life with Peter. I'm not sure any of this comes across clearly but then the author is as confused as Stiles.
> 
> Also, Stiles did not want the baby for the first several months of pregnancy and his attitude was very harsh--might trigger.

He doesn't touch it. Only inadvertently. Even started using a washcloth in the shower to avoid touching it.

He never looks at either. Dresses in the dark. Showers with his eyes closed. Avoids mirrors. Never looks down if he can help it.

So, why is it with the first fluttering movement, he's curled around his swollen stomach, clutching at it, rocking and crying?

Why is his heart stuttering in fear and amazement and sudden, irrepressible love?

This was just supposed to be something to bear, to tolerate, to get through with gritted teeth and hate-filled glares at the monster who forced this on him. And, for nearly five months, it was. He hated everything about it, but, with no choice, he lived with it and ignored it as much as possible. It wasn't his. Just a thing raped inside of him, unnatural and unwanted, at least by him.

Until it moved and became real and his.

"I'm sorry," he sobs to the baby growing in his artificial womb, fingers spread across his own swollen skin, watery eyes watching that skin ripple as the child moves. "It's not your fault. I shouldn't blame you. You're innocent."

He cries into the pillow on the bed he shares unwillingly until exhaustion sets in and he and the infant quiet. Only then does he realize he's not alone. Even before the first soft touch on his aching back, he knows.

Only two people are allowed in this room.

"Why did you do this to me?" he cries plaintively because it's a question he's never asked, one of many held behind his silent tongue as he's mostly refused to speak to the monster touching him so gently, fingers moving in soothing circles.

"Do you know why most werewolves can't perform magic?"

That isn't the answer he wants but he shakes his head and leans into the touch.

"We are creatures of magic. We can't use it. But, the cub of a werewolf and a mage, those are rare and unique and so very powerful."

"Power, that's all you've ever cared about," he bites out bitterly.

The chuckle from behind him sounds flat and hollow. "If that was true, there are much easier ways to attain it. You're not a great pleasure to be around either, you know."

With eyes no longer teary, he glares over his shoulder at the smirking Alpha wolf lounging beside him. "Then why?"

The smirk fades to softness, the hand not soothing his back cups his chin and lips press to his. "Because I adore you, Stiles. I have since the first moment I saw you and knew you were mine. When I felt your magic I knew the cubs we'd have would be so very special, and so very needed in this chaotic world we live in."

"You raped me," Stiles says bluntly, because now that he's talking, he's not going to shut up or sugarcoat anything.

"Did I?" Peter muses, turning him onto his back and looming over him, fingers still gripping his chin but now with just a hint of claw. "We have very different memories then. I remember the threefold deaths swinging around to the start again, that bitch deciding that two times through the cycle meant tenfold the power. I remember you coming to me with fear in your eyes and scent. I remember you begging me to fuck away your virginity. And I made it good for you," he croons. "I remember your pleasure, the sounds you made, the adorable twitches, the way you clung to me. Was that rape?"

Stiles jerks away, bitterly knowing it's only because Peter lets him. "That's not what I'm talking about, you son of a bitch, and you know it. I didn't get pregnant from that night. It was after you killed Deucalion and became an Alpha again."

Peter's face shutters, his lips tighten. "You consented."

"To sex, not getting knocked up, not getting claimed as your mate!"

"And so it's become rape in your mind? Every time we fucked was rape? Last night when you came so hard you blacked out, I forced that on you?" Peter yells back and Stiles scoots off the bed, putting his back to the nearest wall, because, while Peter's never hurt him, there's always a first time and the Alpha's frustration is obvious as he, too, rises from the bed but keeps it between them.

"Choice," Stiles chokes out. "You took it from me. I didn't even know what you were doing but you did, didn't you. You knew I'd get pregnant. And you sure the fuck knew what biting my wrist would give you."

"Yes, and if I'd asked, you'd have said 'no' and I couldn't allow that."

"And we're back to the lack of consent."

They stare at each other across their bed and, to Stiles, it feels like both a mile and an inch. He can feel Peter surrounding him, wrapped around him, through the bite that claimed him as mate. He can feel the distance his bitter--truthful--words puts between them.

Slowly he wraps his arms around his--their--baby.

Peter's eyes follow the movement. "Why were you crying?" he softly asks, the anger gone in the face of his mate cradling their cub.

"It moved. It's...real."

"You've never wanted it. I've been prepared to raise it without you."

"It's mine," Stiles proclaims fiercely, teeth bared, and Peter smiles.

"And this is another reason I adore you, Stiles." Love, he never says love, but Stiles knows what he really means, even if he denies every emotion but hatred he has for the Alpha wolf. "You continue to delight me even when you piss me off."

Stiles rolls his eyes but doesn't move away as Peter rounds the bed and takes him in his arms to kiss him tenderly yet possessively.

"This discussion isn't over," he states firmly when the kiss ends.

"Of course it isn't." Peter smiles, though.

"You didn't win."

"Oh, Stiles. I won months ago." Still smiling, a hint of red glinting in his eyes, the Alpha steps back, leaving Stiles flustered and annoyed, but then the baby moves again and love fills him and...

He's just so damn confused.

"Lunch?"

For a moment Stiles stares at him in disbelief, then huffs and stomps towards the door.

"Ah, the pitter patter of annoyed teenage feet."

Bastard.

Why does he have to be such a tangled mess?

It was rape. It really, really was, because he didn't want any of this. Sex, sure, because, even now Peter can make him shatter in pleasure so easily, but not a baby, not a mating, not a future. No consent equals rape.

Peter will never accept that.

Stiles wonders dully if some day he'll have no choice but to move past it.

End

**Author's Note:**

> I have several characters in my head who are forced to bear children against their will and think the fetuses are monsters, parasites etc. I find this very odd considering how much I adore children and would have loved to have several of my own. Add Stiles to the number...


End file.
